


A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder

by SkellingtonZero



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Character Death, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Holidays, M/M, Mild Language, Murder, mature content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkellingtonZero/pseuds/SkellingtonZero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arranged marriages are not fun but I, Draco Malfoy will marry Pansy because I'm suppose to. Wait, she's been murdered? Well...I certainly didn't do it! It doesn't matter that I'm gay and I never wanted to marry her but I'd never kill her! Right Potter? You belive me don't you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I started writing this story about a year ago after reading Silver: My Own Tale as Written by Me with a Goodly Amount of Murder by Edward Cupack; hence the title. I took the personality of Draco during the War when he was under the thumb of everyone and had the fight scared out of him. -L
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter belong to their respected owners. No copyright infringement intended.

It was the holiday season, you know the time of year when everyone is either creepily polite or obnoxiously rude. The time when people whip out their credit cards like there mardi gras beads and family from all around invade your home for one week under the pretense that they’re here because they love you rather than the fact that they just want to nose around your house and see what  you have.

Yeah, that time of year.

My name is Draco Malfoy and I swear on my bloody Father that I did not, under any circumstances kill Pansy Parkinson.

Not that I’m sad about it, in fact I think it was a blessing in disguised. See, she was my fiancée and aside from the fact that she was a very close friend of mine; I just don’t swing that way. Plus, she clung onto my pants as though she would die. Not that it was a bad thing, sometimes it’s nice to know I’m wanted. But the bloody bint all but followed me into the bathroom every time I had to use the loo. Tell me that won’t get annoying.

Anyways, the Parkinson’s were staying at the Malfoy Manor as preparation for Pansy and I marrying just after Christmas.

I was utterly annoyed with it but what could I do? Nothing. It was arranged before I was even born. But to say I would go as far to kill Pansy is fucking ridicules. Sure I didn’t want to marry her, but I didn’t hate her either. In fact, I sort of liked her. As a friend of course.

Like I said my door swung the other way.

I suppose I should start from the beginning since this is all rather confusing.

Pansy was found dead in her bathroom lying in the bathtub Sunday morning around ten AM. She had her own bedroom and on-suite bathroom by the way. One of the maids found her when she went in to start cleaning; everyone had assumed that Pansy went out to buy more coffee for me so no one noticed her absence or found it strange. I however, never asked her to do such thing.

That is what maids were for.

We were all in separate rooms when it was discovered that she was in fact, dead. I was in the kitchen waiting for a fresh cup of coffee. Mother was in the sitting room with Pansy’s mother talking about the wedding and how elegantly gorgeous it would be. Father was reading the papers in his study. And Pansy’s father was still in bed.

Or so he claims.

Notice anything odd?

I have an alibi as well as witnesses.

As does Mother and Mrs. Parkinson.

But Father and Mr. Parkinson have no one to vouch for them. Now I’m not pointing fingers at anybody, but hey if they’re going to accuse me I might as well start looking around right?

“You’re fucking son murdered my daughter!” Mr. Parkinson was currently screaming at my Father. We were all seated in the living room near the fireplace. Father had called the police but it was snowing out, well to be honest it was a bloody blizzard out and they were having a hard time getting through. Most of the house staff was ordered to stay in the kitchen while we figured out what the fucking hell happened.

Obviously there was a killer among us and let’s just say tensions were running high.

“Please refrain from accusing Draco.” Mother sat beside me and began to rub my back to relive some of the tension; but she was acting like I was two. “He would never do such a thing!”

“That’s right-I loved Pansy.” I looked up at Mrs. Parkinson and stared her in the eye. I wasn’t exactly lying, I just wasn’t telling the whole truth. I did love Pansy, just not in the way everyone wanted. But now wasn’t exactly the best time to announce that little fact.

“Right.” I looked over at Mr. Parkinson to see him snarling at me. “Like believe that shit! You never loved my daughter! You cringed at the very sight of her!” He stalked over to me and glared down at me like I was a mutated snail. “That’s right! I saw the way you looked at her!” He grabbed me by the collar of my white dress shirt and almost hauled me up out of my seat.

“S-”

He moved to strangle me but stopped when he heard the click of a gun behind his head.

“Kindly removed your hands from my son’s shirt Parkinson.”

I looked over Mr. Parkinson’s head to see my Father pressing the barrel of his hand gun to Mr. Parkinson’s skull.

“Now.”

Mr. Parkinson released my shirt but still glared down his nose at me.

I bristled as Mother began to fuss over me. It’s understand why the Parkinson’s were judging me, I mean I do have a lot to gain from Pansy’s death but really, I wouldn’t sully my hands or my name, by doing something that stupid. As much as I hated the idea of marrying Pansy, I wouldn’t kill her. I _couldn’t_ do it. She and I have been through so much as friends for me to end her life just because I didn’t want to marry her.

“I suggest we all sit down and have some tea.” Mother stood up and motioned for a maid standing in the corner to serve us tea. Wearily, she watched the maid make the tea with a cautious eye.

I felt the same way; someone here murdered Pansy, and if it wasn’t one of us; it had to be one of the help.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I shouldn’t look but she was like my best friend, and I had to know how she died.

I pushed open the bathroom door and gagged at what I saw.

Whomever did this, really fucking hated Pansy.

It was obvious she was in the middle of taking her morning bath, she was seated in the tub with her head thrown back and arms hanging out of the tub. One foot was propped up against the wall and the other was lost somewhere in the blood red water surrounding her body. There was blood everywhere, but mostly around her neck and running down her chest; the killer had sliced her neck open. Nervously, I walked closer to the edge of the tub to peer into her face. I cringed and felt my stomach twist itself into an intricate knot.

Her eyes were open and begging for mercy, cheeks stained with tears and blood and her lips were red from the blood that oozed out of her mouth.

I stumbled back and dry heaved into the sink, this was too much.

Who the fucking hell could be so cold hearted as to kill her like that? There was no decency for her, no respect for her as a human; they slit her throat and just…stabbed her. 

Sure Pansy was annoying and a bit whorish but she was good, her heart was in the right place.

I stayed there in the bathroom for about an hour, I didn’t do much, just stood there staring at Pansy’s mutilated body. There were fresh cuts along her arms and on the one leg I could see, there was also a pool of blood behind her head where it looks like the killer had smashed her head in attempt to knock her unconscious.

I also cried.

Yes, me, Draco fucking Malfoy cried over Pansy Parkinson.

To be honest I missed her. I missed her stupid smile and her warm, clinging arms. I missed her annoying voice asking how I was feeling and why I didn’t want to kiss her. I just fucking missed her.

I left when Mother began calling for me. Apparently the police had finally arrived.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

“Draco darling this is Mr. Harry Potter, the policeman overseeing our case.” Mother grabbed my arm and held on as she introduced me. Appreciatively, I looked over Mr. Harry Potter the policeman in charge. He wasn’t as tall as me, but defiantly nice to look at; he was slim, but there was definitely muscles under that uniform-which seemed to be tailed to his body.

We were currently all standing in the foyer, but Potter had already removed his outer jacket and was currently scribbling down something on his notepad and talking to four other officers in hushed tones.

I shifted slightly, trying to get some feeling back into the arm Mother was crushing. It didn’t work; she had a secure grip on my arm and wasn’t letting up one bit.

“I can say with confidence that we all here are innocent.” I glanced over to see Father striding to the group of policemen, his walking stick echoing in the silence. “So I say we can safely suspect the help.”

Potter turned to face Father, a cool controlled look on his tanned face.

Did I mention he was tan? Oh yes he was _naturally_ tan, none of that artificial shit.

“I understand what you are saying Mr. Malfoy. However I must conduct my own investigation before suspecting anyone.” He turned to look at the rest of us. “Currently, you are all under suspicion seeing that you all had contact with Miss Pansy Parkinson before her untimely demise.”

“I would like to point out that Malfoy here was engaged to my daughter!” Mr. Parkinson sneered.

Potter raised a confused eyebrow at my father and licked his lips nervously. “You were engaged to Miss Pansy Parkinson?”

That earned Potter an icy glare from Father. “No Mr. Potter. Not I.” He stepped to the side briskly and pointed at me. “My son. Obviously.”

Potter looked at me with confusion, enlightenment, and finally what I hoped to be interest. Though I couldn’t be sure it was interest in me as a man, or as a suspect. 

“Ah, of course.” He quickly scribbled something down on that writing pad of his before looking back up at me. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with you.” His eyes darted over to Mother then back at me. “In private.”

I nodded and dislodged myself from Mother’s grip. “Of course. We can use the study.”

With that said I began to lead him down the hallway; we walked in silence, but I could feel his eyes on my back. I stopped in front of a closed double door room and unlocked it. “Analyze the body, scene and house.” He ordered suddenly; I looked around him to see the four officers trailing after him.

“Yes Sir.” They gave a curt bow and broke off into two.

“You keep the study locked?” He asked casually, turning his attention back to me, I wasn’t sure if it was for informational purposes or just curiosity.

I pushed open both doors and gestured him in before me. “Of course. We have help-and they do tend to be nosy sods.” I muttered darkly, thinking back to the time when I caught two giggling maids going through my pants drawer. Needless to say, I bought new pants that same evening.

Potter nodded and began to wander around the room, looking at various objects before looking out one of the windows. “So you don’t trust the people you employ?” He turned to look at me as he sat down on one of the chairs before the fireplace. Oddly he looked as though he belonged there, sitting before the grand fireplace letting his body warm by the growing fire.

I took the seat opposite him and crossed one leg over the other. “I don’t employ them Potter. I’m only here for the holiday’s.” I sighed. “And the-well wedding.”

A look I couldn’t describe came across his face as he nodded. “Yes. Wedding.” He took out the notepad and pen. “You were engaged to be married?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Since before I was born.”

He looked up at that. “It was arranged?”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes but nodded slowly. “Yes Potter. It was what you would call an arranged marriage.” I tugged needlessly at my cuffs. “Our parents had arranged it for us.”

He quickly scribbled down a few things before locking eyes with me once again. I was beginning to notice a pattern about him; he almost always locked eyes with me when talking; as though he were trying to pull every single bit of information out of me.

“Were both of you agreeable to that?”

At that, I dropped my gaze. “Pansy and I were very close. We grew up together, hung out all the time and whatnot. But I didn’t want to marry her.”

I looked up to see him scribbling away.

“But I didn’t kill her Potter.  I would never have killed Pansy.” I swallowed thickly, remembering the way she looked lying in the bathtub with blood caked to every available surface. “Even if she held a gun to my head…I wouldn’t have been able to kill her.”  I knew my voice was cracking and I felt the tears burning in my eyes but I just couldn’t stop talking. “She was like my best friend…I knew her better than anyone else could ever hope to…and she knew me.” I felt the hot tears drip down my face and heard the rustle of his clothing as he stood up. “Pansy was annoying.” I laughed a bitter laugh, somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was reveling a lot of information to a stranger and I should shut my damn trap, but I couldn’t control myself. Something about Potter made me want to tell him everything so he wouldn’t see me as a suspect. He needed to know the truth. “But she was my friend…maybe even my best friend…” I muttered as he knelt in front of me and held out the box of tissues he took off of the desk.

He didn’t say anything, just kneeled there in front of me holding the box of tissues while I blew my nose and whipped my eyes.

“I didn’t kill Pansy.” I mumbled, completely depressed and ready to crawl into bed and just fall asleep praying this was another horrible nightmare and when I wake up Pansy would be alive, eager to bother me once again.

“I believe you.” He finally spoke, staring at me.

I chose to look at the fireplace, hoping that he would take the silent hint and not stare at me. I knew my face was blotchy and red, my nose was probably swollen and my eyes were probably pink. I looked horrible.

“What are you going to do?” I asked and swallowed the lump in my throat.

He stood up and carelessly tossed the tissue box onto the coffee table.

“I was your main suspect right? After what they said?”

At that he raised a curious eyebrow at me before pursing his lips, debating whether or not he should say something before shaking his head and sighing. “Everyone that was in this house is a suspect.” He stated vaguely before looking back down at me, his gaze softening slight. “But yes, you _were_ number one suspect. But now you aren’t.” He strolled confidently to the door and paused. “I’ll leave now to check on my men. You can have some time to yourself before you go back.”

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

“What did he ask?” Mother prodded as she stroked my hair and handed me a cup of tea. I had found her in the kitchen fretting over drinks and chatting with the chief who was casually preparing lunch that no one would eat. Who could eat at a time like this? For fucks sake Pansy’s lying dead in the tub upstairs.

“Just wanted to find out if I had any motive.” I mumbled and sipped the tea, relaxing as it warmed me from the inside out.

“Oh my-”

“Do not worry Mrs. Malfoy.” Potter came up behind me with two officers in tow. “Neither you, your son or Mrs. Parkinson are suspects in this seeing as you all have viable alibis.” His voice was strong yet oddly soothing.

“So who did it?” I asked briskly. I wanted the bastard arrested, whomever did this was a-

“I don’t know yet.” His eyes bore into my own, but his voice turned even softer.

“My husband didn’t do it.” Mother cut in worriedly.

Potter nodded understandably. “I understand but we have yet to speak with him Mrs. Malfoy.” He soothed and offered her a comforting smile. “Where can I find Mr. Malfoy?”

Mother nodded and traced the pearls around her neck before sighing and gesturing down the hallway. “I believe he’s in the front library Mr. Potter.”

Potter nodded, smiled, glanced at me before striding out the door and down the hallway.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

Mother had me sit with her and Mrs. Parkinson in the back living room until Potter came back with Father in tow. We didn’t really talk or say anything much, in fact it was quite uncomfortable. Mother ordered tea and crumpets to be served but to me at least the tea was too strong and the crumpets too dry. Besides my heart kept pounding, I was sweaty and worried and I gave myself a headache. It was all I could do not to run up to my bedroom and just cower under the blankets like I use to do when I was a small child.

Soon enough Potter came into the room with Father, both looked rather uncomfortable and Father took a seat beside the fireplace away from Mrs. Parkinson. “Well?” Mother fished, her slim but incredibly strong fingers once again wrapped around my hand.

Potter smiled kindly at her and me before beckoning two of the police officers into the room. “Your husband is no longer a suspect. However we cannot locate Mr. Parkinson.” He glanced around the room and I noticed that the two officers had aligned themselves on either side of Potter, slightly behind him. They were trying to intimidate us if we were hiding him for some reason, and honestly it was working. The two officers flanked Potter and stood at attention, hands clasped behind their backs exposing their belts holding knives, a gun, taser, and a baton. What? Did they think we would willingly hide the murderer when we called the officers ourselves? Honestly what sort of-

“My husband is resting.” Mrs. Parkinson stood up. “I shall fetch him for you.” She nodded slightly then scurried off to find him.

“Please have a seat Mr. Potter.” Mother pointed to the couch opposite us. “Mr. Finnegan, Mr. Wood.” She nodded at the two men. “Have some tea if you like.” So their last names were Finnegan and Wood? When did she find that out?

Potter surprisingly took her offer and sat down on the couch while one of the officers motioned for the maid in the corner to pour them all some tea. I took my opportunity to watch Potter as he accepted the cup and removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, apparently he had a headache.

Not surprisingly Mother saw his action and always the clever woman, jumped into action in attempt to get him on our side. Even though he already kind of was on our side. “Mr. Potter, do you have a headache? Can I offer you some painkillers?”

“No, no thank you.” He waved her off and sipped the tea. “It’s just the weather and having to work. Sometimes you just want to be at home, warm in bed and _not_ doing your job.” He laughed and shrugged. “But what am I going to do? Comes with the territory.”

“Have you tried pulling on the muscles in your forehead while holding the one on your neck?” She persisted. Mother was what one may call a coinsurer for all things that got rid of body pains. For some reason she always suffers with one pain or another and over the years developed quite an arsenal for combating everything from headaches and back pain to stomach cramps and stubbed toes.

Much to my amusement Potter sent her one of the most horrified looks a man could give, I could only image what he thought she was saying for him to make that face. “I’m sorry…what?” He sputtered and slowly put down the tea on the table in front of him.

Mother smiled and patted my arm having given up her death grip. “Draco honey why don’t you show Mr. Potter?”

Suddenly a surge of happiness erupted through me at the thought of being able to touch Potter and ease his headache, and it was terrifying. Why would I feel happy at that? Pansy is _dead_. Sure he’s a handsome man with one hell of a charming smile but _Pansy_ is _dead_ and he’s the policeman investigating her _murder._

“Draco? You do remember how to do it right?” Mother gently patted my arm.

“Of course.” I stood up and quickly walked over to Potter who only stared at me with a look of interest and apprehension. “If you don’t mind of course.”

Potter raised an eyebrow at me before glancing over at the two officers who had taken their tea near the fireplace with Father. “You’re not going to pull something and damage my spine are you?” He asked in jest but I saw real worry flash through his green eyes.

My mouth quirked up in a half smile. “No, of course not.” And I moved to place my thumb on one side of his temple and my fore and middle finger on the other and squeezed gently while my other hand found its way to the base of his warm neck and applied a light pressure. “You okay?” I whispered for some reason.

He ‘mhmed’.

Slowly I squeezed a little harder and pulled my forefinger and thumb towards his forehead. Within seconds he was sighing a relived sigh; it worked. “Wow,” He mumbled, eyes still closed. “That feels amazing…like magic.”

I smirked and reluctantly released him. “Yeah. Headache gone?” For some insane reason I wanted to place my hand back at the nape of his neck and just play with his hair, of course I didn’t! But I felt the impulse to do so.

“Yes, thank you.” He smiled appreciatively at me before looking over my shoulder and suddenly I remembered Mother and hurried back to her side. “I’ve sent for the Medical Examiner and Coroner; they should be here shortly.” Potter spoke casually.

“Oh?” Father looked over at us from his place at the fireplace. “Why’s that Mr. Potter?”

Potter sipped his tea before answering. “I am merely an officer Mr. Malfoy; medically I am only allowed to deduce that yes, a person is indeed dead and given the special circumstances I can also decide that said victim has been indeed murdered. But that is all I am allowed to do as far as Miss Pansy Parkinson is concerned. To gather more information I need the Coroner and Medical Examiner here to give their expert opinions and I can use that until a proper autopsy can be done. Using their professional opinion on the way the victim, forgive me, Miss Parkinson was murdered I can use that to also determine the murderer.” He spoke calmly, as though he was simply explaining why the sky was blue instead of something a hell of a lot more serious. 

“Oh my, you mean her bo-poor darling Pansy will have to remain here till…” Mother trailed off.

“Till morning. Late morning possibly.” Potter eyed both Mother and Father. “Will that be a problem?”

“No, of course not.” Father stood up and walked over. “And how about yourself Mr. Potter? How long will you and your men be staying?” I recognized that tactic, Father was fishing to see what type of man Potter was and executing the fact that though Potter was an officer, he was still the King of this fucking castle and he better remember it.

And Father must still be annoyed at that marriage remark earlier.

Mother, knowing Father and his ways quickly stood up and beckoned to the maid. “Till dinner? Perhaps you will be spending the night? If so please, allow us to cook you and your officers and fantastic meal and feel free to take a nice long bath. We have more than enough room.” She stood up and walked beside Father who took her arm in his. “Right Draco?”

Immediately, like a trained dog I sprung up. “Yes, of course. Please stay. The Chief makes a delicious fish.”

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

They all kindly accepted Mother’s offer, including the Medical Examiner and Coroner who arrived ten minutes later both carrying bags that looked to contain torture devices instead of the designated tools for their trade. Much to my advantage Mother and Father shanghaied them into one of the living rooms for a little chat and some tea leaving me to my own devices. Quickly I snuck up the stairs and into Pansy’s room.

One more time, I just needed to see her one more time even if she was dead and covered in blood.

She looked like I last saw her, not that I expected her to change and suddenly be well again but it was unnerving. I tried to not stare at the blood or the terror in her eyes and just focus on the fact that this was Pansy, my best friend, fiancé, and just all around good person; but it was hard.

It’s weird that when someone dies, it’s like everything about them leaves the second they die. There isn’t any more of their…the thing that makes them _them_ anymore.

“You shouldn’t be here.” A deep authoritative yet slightly amused voice spoke from behind me. I turned to see Potter standing there hands shoved into pockets, eyes locked on me. “This is a crime scene.”

I swallowed thickly, blinked back the tears stinging my eyes and nodded. “I know I…it’s just…she’s Pansy…I grew up with her.” I stuttered, ashamed at being caught and ashamed at the fact that I couldn’t seem to form a cognitive sentence whenever this man was around.

His eyes softened and he nodded understandingly. “I know, they say its best not to look at the body and remember them the way they were before.” He stepped inside and peered down at her, for some reason I felt a rush of anger at him openly staring at Pansy’s naked body like that. It was too clinical and mechanical. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave Mr. Malfoy. They will be up soon to do their job.”

“This is my Father’s house.” I stated loudly without thinking. Shit, why did I blurt that out? How much of a child do I seem right now? Damn I might as well stamp my foot and start crying like a two year old!

Potter looked back at me and moved closer and placed a large warm, secure hand on my shoulder. “I know how you feel Mr. Malfoy.” He spoke, voice low and soothing; I swear my brain stopped working at this point. “But regulations state that I cannot allow you to be here in a crime scene. I understand that Miss Parkinson is very dear to you but you must leave. Now.” And then he squeezed my shoulder and shoved me out of the bathroom.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

I didn’t bother with the niceties after that because if I saw Potter again, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I feared I might break down crying which just may be the worst thing I could do being in my Father’s house. It was just too much; the weird soothing, warm feeling in my stomach I get whenever he’s around, then the pangs of pure guilt I feel whenever I think of Pansy and my _Mother_ , shit the looks of pity she keeps giving me every time I walk into the room it’s just too fucking much.

And I don’t even want to think of the Parkinson’s; the look of pure hate from Mr. Parkinson and the defeated look of Mrs. Parkinson is enough to drive a man mad.

So instead of dinning with them all and having to bear with all of that stress I took my dinner in my own room away from everyone; which in hindsight was just about the worst thing I could have done because when I opened my door expecting to see a maid holding a tray of food, instead I got a lovely fist to the face.

“Fucking hell!” I spat and stumbled back only to have another punch to my jaw. Blearily I opened my eyes to find Mr. Parkinson fisting his hands in my collar and hoisting me off my feet and shoving me into the nearest wall. “Shit man!” I hissed but felt my mouth pool with blood as he slammed the back of my head into the wall.

“Shut the fuck up you little shit!” He hissed and tightened his grip in my collar, successfully cutting off my air supply. “I know you killed my daughter!” He slammed me into the wall again. “So I’m going to kill you!”

I tried to fight back, I tried to punch him but he merely shoved me back into the wall.

I tried to kick him but he squeezed his hands tighter and chocked me.

I thought it was over, I thought I was going to die.

I thought there was going to be another murder this holiday season and Mother would walk in to find my dead body.

But just as I was about to start saying my goodbyes a loud piercing scream filled the air; but Mr. Parkinson panicked and slammed my head into the wall again and I slipped into a world of darkness.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

It’s terrifying waking up and not knowing where you are, what happened, or if you’re alive. Yes obviously I knew that I was able to breathe and think but that doesn’t stop the cold terror ripping through my body that the last memory I have is of Mr. Parkinson slamming me into the wall and a woman screaming bloody murder now does it?

“Draco? Are you awake?” My Mother’s soothing voice entered my ears and her cool hand pressed against my forehead. Forcefully my eyes opened and I focused on her worried face hovering above my own. “Oh thank the Gods your awake!” She clasped my hand and sobbed. “You’ve been unconscious for hours! My poor dear, h-”

“Narcissa don’t worry him more than he already is.” I looked over to the other side of the bed to see Father standing there with two officers. He looked impassive but a small smile fleeted across his features.

Mother sniffed and pulled herself together, I took that time to take in my surroundings. I was in my bedroom, on the bed and both Mother and Father were present. Where was Mr. Parkinson? That bastard should be locked up in the dungeons after what he tried! Yes, I understand that Pansy is dead but what the hell-I didn’t do it!

“How do you feel?” Mother placed her hand on my cheek then my forehead.

“I’m fine Mother.” I muttered as I struggled to sit up as a shot of pain ran through the back of my head forcing me to groan in pure pain. Fucking hell my poor head! It feels like someone cut open the back of my skull and shoved rocks in it.  

“We should let Mr. Potter know you’re awake.” Father muttered.

“Mr. Malfoy I’d be more than happy to get him.” One of the officers offered with a thick Irish accent, it was kind of annoying really. Okay it wasn’t so much the accent as the fact that he basically yelled it. Someone should remind him about using his inside voice.

“It’s fine.” Father stated curtly and walked out.

“We were all so worried about you.” Mother cooed and rubbed my arm in soothing circles. “But Mr. Potter had a look at you and said you’d be alright, but of course I-”

“Mrs. Malfoy please relax.” One of the officers smiled, he was tall and muscular with short brown hair and a warm smile. Also he actually spoke softly, which I appreciated. “We all believe Mr. Malfoy here will be just fine.” He then looked down at me. “My name is Oliver Wood by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” I mumbled, still a bit confused at what the hell was going on and why they’re here in the first place. Shouldn’t they be looking for clues? Arresting Mr. Parkinson? Doing something other than watching me sleep?

“I’m Seamus Finnegan.” The Irish officer nodded. “Your head must be hurting having been bashed in so much. Why I-” Oliver jabbed him in the gut, effectively shutting him up. 

“Hey.” Potter walked in and just then Mother decided to excuse herself muttering something about Father, leaving me alone. “Why don’t you two go wait with Mrs. Malfoy?” He glanced at the two officers hovering around nervously.

“Are you sure Harry? We could-”

“It’s fine Seamus. You two should be with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy…just in case.”He watched while they left then stared to make sure the door was firmly shut.

Uneasy with sitting in bed while Potter sort of just stood there beside me was incredibly nerve-wracking so obviously I tried to move, only to have him place a strong hand on my shoulder and push me back down into bed. “Don’t move around too much, you may have a head injury.”

“I’m fine, what’d you mean just in case?”

He sighed and took a seat at the edge of my large bed. “Mr. Parkinson repeatedly slammed your head into the wall and strangled you then eventually knocked you unconscious.” He dodged the question and watched my expression morph into shock and horror. Fuck I forgot just how many times he inflicted head injuries to me; but I do think I’m alright, just sore. “In our…not too much of an expert opinion we think you’re okay…I mean you’ve woken up within two hours and you don’t seem to be-how many fingers am I holding up?”

I stared at the three fingers he held up with a raised eyebrow. “Three.”

“Excellent.” He nodded and grinned. “I think you’re just fine. But when the roads are clear you should get yourself checked out by a real doctor alright?”

Stiffly I nodded and massaged the back of my neck, wondering idly how exactly I came to be in this situation with Pansy dead, her father trying to kill me, and me alone in my bedroom with one incredibly attractive officer. “How’s my…am I bleeding?” I asked nervously, feeling something drip down my skull.

Potter immediately jumped up and leaned over to peer at the back of my head, his fingers gently grazing my hair as he inspected my head. “Shit…” He cursed and I felt his fingers graze parts of my skull. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“Hm…your head?”

“Hurts.”

“Alright,” He gently grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back down. “You are bleeding but only a little bit. You probably reopened the scab just then…I don’t think it requires stitches but…do you want a second opinion? I can get the Coroner or-”

“No.” Immediately I shot down that idea, for some reason the thought of a guy that works with the dead seeing to my health wasn’t an idea I was comfortable with. “No…I trust you.”

As soon as those words left my lips he smiled and nodded. “Well I am the one with the badge.” He grinned cheekily before clearing his throat and glancing at the door. “Your Mother…she’s worried I’ll go now so she can come back a-”

“No.” Panic flashed though my body at the thought of him leaving me to be replaced by my Mother of all people. Don’t get me wrong I love her, but she isn’t exactly the one you call when you’re in need of comfort. She’ll panic more than you and send your blood pressure rocking up quicker than coffee. “I mean…you can stay.” I glanced at him before realizing what exactly I was staying; I was basically _demanding_ him remain like a petulant little boy. “If you want…you don’t have to but you don’t have to leave because of Mother.”

My face was red.

I _knew_ it was red, I could feel my cheeks and neck steadily getting warmer.

“Alright.” Potter nodded and smiled at me, which only made me feel warmer. “I’ll get your Mother though so at least one of my men could have a break.” He snorted to himself and opened the door and waved at someone.

I waited until he came back to the bedside before asking him a question that’s sort of been nagging me. I may have one hell of an headache but I’m not stupid. Something else happened to have everyone on edge, otherwise Father wouldn’t have been in my room and those officers wouldn’t be trailing after Mother and Father like puppies. Or guard dogs. “Potter something else happened aside from my head being bashed into a wall.” I gauged his reaction before speaking again. “What happened while I was unconscious?”

Nervously he bit his lower lip before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Look I don’t think it’s my place to be telling you when you’re Mot-”

“Tell me before she comes then.” I hissed, trying to concentrate on his words through the blind pain throbbing in my head. It wasn’t easy either and I didn’t appreciate the fact that he kept hesitating and delaying. “Potter.”

“One of my men was murdered while you were unconscious… and another has suffered a serious head wound. I’m now down to two able bodied men…three including myself.” He spoke clearly but slowly, it was as though he were grieving their lives already. My heart went out to him for his loss and I wanted to hold him and tell him it’ll be alright.

Where that came from I don’t know but maybe it’s because of my own head wound? Yeah, I think that’s it.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized, feeling somewhat responsible for the death of one of his officers.

Potter stared down at me one side of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Thanks…but it’s not your fault.” The way he said it with such certainty made me red, whether it’s from my brain overheating or my heart pumping too much blood I’m not sure. But I do know that it looked very much like I was blushing. 

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

Mother and Potter fawned over me for the next few hours, much to Father’s displeasure, but it wasn’t like he could do anything. Besides I didn’t really want Mother there with me, Potter would have sufficed but she insisted, what could I do?

I dozed off to Mother’s cooing and Potter’s deep, warm laughter some time later. She was telling him a story or he was telling a story, I don’t really remember wasn’t paying much attention honestly but it was nice. There was a warm safe atmosphere and I just wanted it to last forever. 

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

I awoke in the early morning, hours before the sun was to rise. Briefly I thought about trying to fall back asleep but I was rested enough and more than a little hungry so I crept out of my room, down the hallway to find someone else up.

It was Potter, he was standing at the large pane of glass windows are the end of the hallway just staring outside at the snow. He looked so peaceful and lost in thought I didn’t want to disturb him but at the same time I just wanted to be near him, thoughts of food long gone. Potter just seemed to emanate warmth, comfort and safety; something I hadn’t ever really experienced. For as long as I can remember Mother was always just a touch anxious, Father couldn’t project comfort if his life depended on it and Pansy, as I said before was arranged.

Pansy, she was lying dead in a bathtub till the Embalmer could come and collect her. 

Now that was a depressing thought, no more giggling and fawning, or eyeing the bathroom door knob in case she tried to break in while I was in it.

I miss her already.

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy.” Potter looked at me, surprised before smiling and looking back out the window. “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Draco.”

“Sorry?”

“My name is Draco, you can call me Draco.” For some reason I didn’t want him to call me Malfoy, or Mr. Malfoy; it was all too formal and it was what he called my Father. In no way did I want Potter to think of me as my Father.

Potter glanced at me before nodding. “Draco. Alright, call me Harry if you like.”

“Harry.” I tested his name and stepped up beside him. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing really.” He shifted so that I could join him in looking out the window. “Just the snow and how peaceful it looks.”

I tried to see the peace in it but all I could see was sadness. How could something look so beautiful when people; albeit one of them was annoying, lay dead? Murdered by the hands of a heartless bastard? When then also possibly gave a officer a traumatic head wound?

“Cruel isn’t it?” Potter, I mean Harry murmured.

“What is?”

Harry shrugged and glanced down at me before staring back at the snow. “It’s cruel how beautiful it is when something so…horrible has happened. It’s like the world doesn’t care that people have died in such a…harsh way.”

He took the words right out of my head.

But just then my stomach decided to announce its wants by growling.

“Hungry?” Harry teased lightly despite the depressing atmosphere and topic of conversation. “You did miss dinner. What can I get you?”

“I can find my own food thank you.” I didn’t want him to think of me as a stuck up rich brat that couldn’t even fetch their own food, that was not who I am and I had no intention of portraying that. Even if my head still hurt and my vision blurred slightly. Should I be worried about that?

Harry grabbed my shoulder and chuckled. “I’m sure you can but you have an injury to the head, allow me. What do you want? Sandwich? Salad? Soup?”

I eyed him with mild amusement. “Are you only naming things you can make?” I teased.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to add food poisoning to your list.” He grinned cheekily but insistently nudged me back towards my room.

“List?”

“Of misfortune.”  

“Ah, well in that case I’ll have a sandwich. I doubt you can unintentionally poison me with that.”

At that he laughed, a full hearty laugh that made his entire face light up. It was the first time that I’ve seen him so unguarded and relaxed. It was nice. “Okay, sandwich it is. Go back in your room; I’ll bring it up for you.”

Compliantly I walked back to my door then paused, curiosity getting the best of me. “What are you doing up anyways?” Harry’s been working all day, I know that for a fact so logically he should be sleeping right now, getting as much rest as possible before he has to get up and work again.

Harry stared back at me, a hard look on his face before he sighed, glanced around and took a step closer to me. For one second I thought he was going to kiss me, or at least hug me before common sense kicked in and I realized he just didn’t want his voice echoing down the hall. “Draco…the person that murdered Miss Pansy Parkinson is the same person that killed Dean Thomas, one of the greatest men I’ve ever had the honor of working with.” He took a deep, steady breath before continuing and in that moment I felt the impulse to hold him, hug him close and whisper nonsensical things just to make that smile and booming laughter come back. “That person also injured Charlie Weasley, a decorated officer that I’ve looked up to since I was in the academy. He’s now facing a possible fatal head injury…and they were both attacked while Seamus, Oliver and I were trying to get to you.”

“What?” I whispered, a cold fear coming over my body. What’s he talking about? What do I have to do with all of this?

Harry groaned and ran his hands through his already messy hair. “Nothing…everything…I don’t even know anymore.” He sighed loudly and stared back at me. “All I know for sure is someone here is rather kill happy and I can’t let you, or your parents die.”

“So essentially you’ve been babysitting me?” I asked dubiously, this can’t be right; he’s forgone sleep to protect me?

At that his actually smiled a little and snorted. “Yeah…put simply yes, I’m babysitting you. So get back into your bedroom and I’ll get that sandwich.”

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

Unfortunately I never did find out how that sandwich he made tasted because by the time he came back, I was sound asleep in bed dreaming of him and a happy, life together where no one was murdered, Mother wasn’t squeezing my hand and Father actually smiled.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

I woke to the sounds of a maid scurrying around my room no doubt cleaning up yesterdays mess. She moved very much like a mouse, dodging around the furniture with agility that looked foreign given her plain features and tall frame. She didn’t notice I had woken up, too immersed in her cleaning and humming. “What’s the time?” I asked, startling her into dropping some dirty laundry.

“Oh Mr. Malfoy!” Her face turned bright red and her hand clutched at her chest. “I hope I didn’t wake you!”

“Time.” I growled again, rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn.

“It’s only seven in the morning Sir. Can I get you anything?”

“No.” I scratched at my scalp, without a doubt I knew I looked like a fox had ambushed my hair while I slept; I had such a good dream.

“How about some tea? Mrs. Malfoy is up and she has arranged to have breakfast served a-”

“No! Just go away!” I snapped and watched as she fled the room, slamming the door behind her.

Truthfully I didn’t want to yell at her but she just kept asking me things and I’m already frustrated enough without her trying to lure me into conversation. That dream I had made me hard, unbelievably hard to the point that I’m amazed I even managed to speak English. With a groan I shoved my hand beneath the blankets and into my pants and wrapped my hand around my cock, moaning at the delicious feeling.

It wouldn’t take much to make me come, that I knew so I roughly ran my hand down my cock and twisted, thoroughly enjoying the forceful treatment before running my fingers up the underside, teasing myself. Unconsciously Harry’s face popped into my mind and as soon as I thought of him and wrapped my fingers around my cock again it was enough to send me over the edge. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out loud knowing full well that the maid might be on the other side of the door listening. Too soon my orgasm ended and all I was left with was cold sheets and sticky pants.

Disappointed with myself I slowly climbing out of bed and stumbled into my bathroom to take a nice long hot shower. And _not_ think of Harry.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

By the time I finally made it down to breakfast, breakfast wasn’t really happening. Sure Seamus and Oliver were eating but Harry was missing. Mother and Father were sipping tea, but there was something uncomfortable about it all; not that things would be comfortable under the given situation but-

“Draco!” Mother beamed when she saw me. “Come sit and eat. Would you like some toast?” She seemed relieved to see me up and about, not that I can blame her since there wasn’t a doubt in my mind she knew very well what was going on and that someone was stab happy in this house. Did she even sleep at all last night?

Slowly I slide into my seat opposite Seamus and accepted the toast, glancing around the large, cold dining room. Mother looked like she hadn’t slept a wink but piled on the makeup this morning to look perfectly together, Father had circles under his eyes and an even deeper scowl.

Suddenly a loud clatter came from the kitchens attracting everyone’s attention. While Mother, Father and I were apprehensive about investigating Seamus and Oliver flew into action.

_“You Sir are under arrest for the murder of Pansy Parkinson.”_

_“What?!”_

_“Crap-Seamus! Oliver get over here he’s fighting back!”_

_“LET ME GO! I DO NOTHING!”_  We all exchanged a look of shock before running into the kitchen to find Harry, Seamus and Oliver surrounding our Chef.

“What’s going on here?” Father demanded. “Why are you arresting my chef?!”

Harry glanced at us before returning his attention to the red-faced chief. “This man murdered Miss Parkinson and Dean Thomas. He is-”

“Well she shouldn’t have complained over my cookies!” The Chef glared daggers at Potter and sneered. “I am the best! I make pasta! Curry! And vegetables! I cook for the top restaurants! I make coconut bread! Ice-cream and chocolate chip cookies for years! And that bitch came and yelled at me! My cooking not good enough!” He thrashed at the officers circling him. “I make that recipe for years! It’s perfect!” His eyes finally landed on me, and he smiled.

A creepy, psychotic smile.

I nearly shit my pants.

“Draco know my cookies good yes?” His voice turned sweet and encouraging.

Automatically I nodded.

I’ve known this man since I was a child; he was tall and skinny with short brown hair, a thick Italian accent and despite the fact that he’s been in an English speaking house for over fifteen years he can only speak broken. But never once has he been this…psychotic. He was always a happy man, willing to make any type of dish and always made homemade cookies once a month for me and brought it up to my room himself with a glass of ice cold milk. How could this man be the killer?

“Yes!” He grinned then swung his gaze back to Potter. “He know nothing wrong with my cookies! I make them for every month! Not one complaint in twenty four years!” He nodded confidently.

I leaned back against the counter, my legs couldn’t take anymore.

Was he really fucking serious?

He killed Pansy, because she didn’t like his cookies?

Suddenly he broke out of the officer’s circle and threw himself at the counter I was leaning on. At the last second I managed to jump out of his way and right into Harry’s side where he caught me. Terrified, I watched as the Chef wielded a butcher’s knife he grabbed from the knife stand and pointed it at one of the officers. “Fucking hell…” I muttered and decidedly shoved myself further away from the obviously mentally unsound man.

“Nobody move!” He yelled and immediately my gaze flicked to Mother and Father slowly backing away from the scene. Mother had her fingers wrapped around Father’s hand as he carefully guided her back; well at least she’s alright, though the look of pure, unaltered horror on her face is anything but reassuring.

“I say no body!” The deranged Chef swung blindly around him in an arc and suddenly I felt Harry’s arm go around me and haul me further back, though I was nowhere near the knife.

“Stay here.” He whispered in my ear before stepping in front of me, giving me a nice view of his strong, broad back. “Mr-”

“Don’t Mr. me!” The Chef growled, settling his gaze on Harry which made me incredibly worried. Not for my safety but for his; what if he threw the knife? Harry couldn’t catch it! Could he? I wanted to peek around Harry and see what exactly was going on but I didn’t want to do anything that would endanger him either. So I stood still and listened, straining to picture what was happening.

“You no take me! I good chef! Draco say’s so himself!” I’m pretty damn sure that’s the chief talking. “And that police say my salad too spicy! I good chef!”

“I agree that you make a delicious meal-delicious food! But you murdered Miss Parkinson and Dean. You also injured Charlie.” Harry spoke without a quiver. But I did see his fingers tap furiously on his pant leg while he spoke but his tapping stopped as soon as he stopped speaking. Is that some sort of sign? Or does he have a nervous twitch?

“They say I no cook well! I cook more well! I amazing!”

Just then I heard someone curse then the sound of someone being tackled and suddenly everything went quiet.

“Fuck…fuck!” Harry cursed and ducked down to the ground, it was then I could see what happened; the Chief stabbed one of the policemen, Seamus I believe is his name. The too loud Irishman. He was hovering over the Chef trapping him to the ground with his body but I could see the handle of the knife poking out of his side.

I swallowed thickly and watched as Harry and the other office, Oliver quickly rolled Seamus over and handcuffed the Chef. Oliver hauled him away and locked him in the hall closet while Harry inspected Seamus’ wound.

“Hey Seamus, how…are…” He trailed off, not that I could blame him that wound looks…fatal.

Quietly I walked over to the other side of Seamus and kneeled down. “Hey Seamus.” I greeted and glanced at the knife protruding out of his stomach, noting with my unprofessional and completely inexperienced brain that the knife looked to be located in his stomach, if that’s true then he will be fine! But if I’m wrong…well I’ll just keep my mouth shut.

“Hey…Mmm…Mr. Malfoy.” He breathed out while Harry pillowed his head with his own sweater he ripped off.

“My Mother’s calling an ambulance.” I offered and tried to look reassuring, but I’m fairly certain I only looked more worried. “So...you know don’t give up.” Could I say anything more stupid?

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

Thankfully the ambulance arrived within ten minutes and hauled Seamus and Charlie away with the comforting words that Seamus was indeed, stabbed in the stomach and should recover without a problem. Charlie however was a different story, he was somewhat conscious but more in a lucid state so that was worrying on more levels than one. Harry left with the ambulance, not that I’m shocked or anything because they are his partners and he really should be with them. Oliver called for backup and as soon as they arrived they all hauled the Chef away to jail, much to my, as well as Mother’s relief.

The Embalmer had his hands filled with two dead bodies, I didn’t watch as they collected them.

By lunch time everyone had left the house leaving us alone with the Parkinson’s and of course the remaining staff of butlers and maids. Father had called a meeting in the front living room so we all gathered around the roaring fire; I took the seat closets to the flame which was also farthest away from Mr. Parkinson. I deemed that the safest place to be at the moment.

“We are truly sorry for your loss.” Mother began from her perch on the opposite side of the fireplace. “Pansy was and still is dear to our hearts. We had no idea our chef was so…unstable. If there’s anything we can do during this trying time please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Well said Mother, I really had no idea that he was that fucked in the head. It’s a good thing I never criticized him, who knows how he would have killed me?

“I shudder to think that he was capable of doing such a thing.” Mother continued on. “And Draco darling your such a picky eater! How lucky that he never…” She trailed off, worrying herself with ‘what ifs’ that I really didn’t want to think about. Yes, I am lucky that the Chef knew me well and always made sure to cook especially for my tastes. I’m incredibly lucky that he liked me and treated me like his own son.

“Well,” Father paced in front of me. “That marriage is obviously-”

“Watch your tongue Malfoy.” Mr. Parkinson cut in.

Father turned and glared at him, is it just me or did the room become slightly colder? “You’re lucky my son isn’t pressing charges against you, I trust you to remember that.”

“And I trust you to remember that my daughter was just murdered!”

Fucking hell their fighting already? Tea hasn’t even been served!

“I know that!” Father hissed. “That’s why we played host to all those _people_ last night!” He spat out the word people as though it was tar on his tongue; but Harry wasn’t so bad. In fact I quite liked him-obviously, if that dream last night was any indication-and Dean also died here…Seamus got injured, so did Charlie, you’d think they could all be a little more sensitive to all the people th-

“Draco are you listening?” Father’s rough voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see him glaring down at me, his cane inches from my own foot. Slowly I dragged my foot back away from him just in case he decides to try and stab me with it.

“Yes Father.”

He sneered at me for a few seconds before turning back to Mr. Parkinson. “Draco agrees.”

Crap, what did I just agree to?

“Your son’s opinion doesn’t matter Malfoy! You signed a contract that-”

“And that contract is no longer valid since she is now dead.”

“So what? You’re just going to go marry him off to someone else?”

Father smiled a cold sinister smile. “Yes. Miss Astoria Greengrass’ father has been hinting at some events that he will be more tha-”

“The Greengrass’! You and I had a deal Malfoy! Since your son was born he was to marry a Parkinson!”

“Your only daughter is dead! What are you going to do? Marry my son?” Father derided, but that look on Mr. Parkinson’s face made me more than a little concerned so I walked out. Just stood up and left, they didn’t even notice. Well I think Mother may have but she didn’t say anything.

Their opinion didn’t matter anymore though, I thought Father genuinely wanted me to marry Pansy because he liked the Parkinson’s but it was only for underhanded reasons and I couldn’t put myself through that again. Maybe this was one of those blessings in disguise; now that Pansy was gone there was nothing in writing keeping me back from being me anymore. That’s not to say that I’m going to go out to a gay bar, but now I don’t have to marry a woman and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let Father dictate otherwise.

So there I stood at the front of my parent’s house in the middle of snow staring up at the sky.

I must look like I’ve gone mad, but I don’t care, I felt free for once. Like I could finally be myself.

It felt wonderful.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

It felt amazing for all of two minutes because then the wind blew and I wasn’t wearing a jacket, I started to lose feeling in my fingers and toes and Mother came looking for me. Reluctantly I went back inside; not exactly looking forward to listening to Father’s new plans for me. In fact I’d rather freeze outside than listen to him but that wasn’t exactly a viable option.

One of the maids served hot tea much to my delight by the fireplace. “Thank you.” I gratefully sipped the warm beverage and waited for Father to begin his new tirade while the Parkinson’s packed their bags.

“Draco,” Father began slowly, his cane glinting in the firelight. “I believe I can arrange a meeting with the Greengrass’ for tomorrow morning. Perhaps a lunch or something and we can discuss the option of you marrying Astoria. You know her; you went to school with her.”

And so it began, the planning the plotting the manipulation but I couldn’t say anything. I was terrified to be disowned, as much as I wanted to tell him to fuck off I couldn’t. He was my Father, he was seeking my interest. By marrying a daughter of the Greengrass’ we were not only going to have an heir, but more property as well.

But was it worth it? That was the question I struggled to answer. Was it worth me giving up who I really am for the sake of financial and social stability? By marrying Astoria I would be welcome any and everywhere I chose to be, no door will ever be closed because I’d be the perfect man with the perfect wife and perfect children. Before when I had to marry Pansy I never gave it much thought because it was already written and had to be done; but this was different. Nothing was set just yet.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

I didn’t sleep that night be it the fact that the Chef was now in custody, two people died in this house, two severely injured-shit there was a lot of reasons _not_ to sleep in this house.

Or maybe it was the fact that Father and Mother were happily arranging another marriage for me. There were a number of reasons but the most important one was worrying about my future. Yes, I mourned Pansy; despite the fact that she wasn’t number one of my Favorite People list she was still a lovely woman whose life was cut short. But now my future was in the hands of my Father yet again and I wasn’t exactly one hundred percent happy with the decisions he was making.

So I woke the next morning in a foul mood hours earlier than Mother and Father when a brilliant idea struck me; I’ll just take a car and go out for a bit. Maybe do a little shopping or drinking. Whatever just leave this house for awhile, maybe that’ll help ease my mind.

I ended up going to a coffee shop near the shopping district in town for a strong cup of coffee. Having not slept I needed something to give me some much needed energy. Either luck or irony was having a go at me, as soon as I walked into the coffee shop I came face to face with Harry. His face was red, probably from the cold air, his fleece hat was askew on his head and honestly he didn’t smell all that good; but he still made my heart pace quicken.

“Oh, hey Draco.” He grinned and took a step back holding up his coffee cup. “Sorry, almost ran you over there.”

“It’s alright.” I breathed. This is unbelievable! I never expected to see him again, well maybe in court because I have a sneaking suspicion that the Parkinson’s will be serving some papers soon but still, this is a bloody shock.

He nodded and looked me over while sipping at his coffee. “How are you?”

“I’m good, you?”

“Good as can be given the circumstances. Sorry I must smell.” He chuckled. “I’ve been out on the streets.”

“Doing what?” Why would they have him on the streets? Was he looking for someone? A bandit? Murderer?

“Oh you know just making my presence known. Petty crime goes up around this time of year.” He shrugged casually. “Just keeps the rate down a bit when people see an officer about.”

I smiled at that, despite all the crap he went though with my family and me, including losing a man in the line of duty he still seemed pleased to see me. “I admit you are an amazing officer.” I complemented. He is a great officer and anyone he encounters is fucking lucky to be in his presence.

Harry grinned and shrugged. “Thanks. So are you…” He stepped aside to reveal the rest of the coffee shop and I mentally kicked myself. Shit, I forgot I even wanted coffee.

“One regular, thanks Goyle.” I ordered. Sorry, did I forget to mention I know him? Goyle’s an old friend of mine from school, my parents aren’t too keen on the fact that we’re friends but he’s alright.

“Someone’s use to-”

“Be quite.” I cut off Harry but grinned. “I’ve known him for years.”

“Hm, I’m sure.” He mocked lightly.

I glanced around the shop and realized there was no one else around but us. Granted it is five in the morning but I thought there might be at least a few people around. “I guess you have to go right? Keeping the baddies off the street.” I raised an eyebrow at him but walked over to the counter to collect my drink and handed Goyle the money.

Harry shrugged. “Not really, I’m not the only one out.” He looked around at the empty shop. “But what are _you_ doing out so early?”

“I just needed to get out.” I tested the coffee and nodded, it was good.

“Understandable after all that happened.” He nodded and an incredibly uncomfortable silence drifted over us. In fact the only sounds were the heavy roars of the coffee machines grinding the beans in the back.

“Father’s planning another marriage.” I blurted out. Why did I say that?! What when off in my head that said to say that?! Am I really that stupid?! Of all the things I could say I go with that!

“To another woman?” Harry frowned. “Is your Mother okay with that? She seemed nice but she stuck me more of the monogamy type than polygamy.”

At that I nearly choked on saliva alone. “Fucking hell Harry I meant me! He wants me to marry someone else!”

“OH! That makes more sense.” He laughed. “Sorry I really thought you meant your Father.” 

As stupid as it was I smiled and shook my head in wonderment at him. How can he be so, dim and charming?

“So what are you going to do now?” Harry asked, one eyebrow rose. I stared back at this incredibly attractive man with his uniform on and suddenly my mind clicked. I wanted him. I want to live my own life without Father dictating my every step, I don’t want an arranged marriage or to have to live up to the Malfoy name or even have social power. I just wanted to be happy and not care what anyone else thought of me or my name.  

I licked my lips and took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you out on a date Harry.”

“Oh?” He quirked up one side of his mouth in a smile. “I thought you were getting married?”

“I think it’s time I did something that I want to do for a change.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow in interest. At least I hope it was interest.

“Yeah…are you free for dinner sometime?” My heart was pounding in my chest, my back was quickly being drenched in sweat and I swear if he didn’t say something soon my head just might explode.

Harry chuckled and smiled. “I’m free tonight.” 

“Brilliant.” I grinned in relief, I took a chance and he said yes.

_A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder A Holiday Tale with a Goodly Amount of Murder_

I genuinely thought at the beginning of this entire ordeal that my life was truly over, that I had no choices in life and that I would never get a chance to experience true happiness. I never thought something would happen, a door would open and an entire world of possibilities, experiences, and options would appear. Now here I stood in an empty coffee shop, my fiancé dead, and a handsome man opposite me who was willing to go on a date. I counted myself out of the race before I even thought of submitting my name; I’m never going to make that mistake again. I’ll never get those years I lost back, but I can make the most of the time I have left on this Earth and the first thing I’m going to do is tell Mother and Father I’m gay and I won’t be accepting another arranged marriage. Maybe they’ll accept me, maybe they won’t, but they will not stop me from living my life anymore.

 


End file.
